Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Good roots. Strong tree.



There is always Music amongst the trees in the Garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it. ~Minnie Aumonier
He shows me the inside of the apple tree. "See here," he says, pushing a stick down into the trunk. "It's split. She's a beauty but she hasn't been very well cared for over the years. She's been rotting from the inside out because waters been getting into her trunk for quite some time. She's drowning."

She is a beautiful tree. But inside, her beauty has been slowly eroded by time and rain and water seeping into her roots. She needs his care and attention.

He is an arborist. Knows his trees. Obviously cares about them. He's come to save our trees. He's brought a lifter truck, a bark mulcher truck and a pick-up with trailer. The front and back yard are strewn with sawed of branches and limbs. It's easy to tell he's in his element. That these trees are 'his people', his connection to the earth. He's rough. Tough talking. Hands hardened by hard labour. The smell of gasoline. Earth. Dirt. But, like bark that protects the inner organs of the tree, his exterior hides a soft and gentle interior. And he's come today to care for these beauties who need his care.

"See, I've had to cut the pine off here and here to give her time to heal. The birch, ahhh, she's beautiful but here too, I've cut back. Way back." And he shows me a branch he's cut off, where it's rotted into the core. "Trees always try to heal themselves. She just couldn't do it here. Someone trimmed her and didn't know what they were doing."

There's an analogy for life here. I'm sure of it. I just can't see it yet.

Like the branch rotting from the inside out, healing from the outside in, there's only so far good skin can take you.

"It's a big job," he tells me. "I just came to work on the birch today but the others are in desperate need of care. I couldn't just let them stand there without attention."

Like people. Desperately in need of attention, how do we let them stand alone? Can we let them fall? Are we only willing to reach out when we see them lying on the ground?

We can't see the rotting from the inside out. The sadness seeping away at their roots. The anger splitting their hearts apart.

Like my apple tree. "We're going to have to bore a hole here, and here," he says, demonstrating with his hands where they'll bore into the tree and place a rod. "If we don't, she's likely to split completely and then you'll have no more tree. She's too beautiful to lose," he adds, patting her roughly on the trunk.

He shows me a branch he's sawed off. "Someone cut her back but didn't leave any place for her to heal herself. Cut her on a dead limb. She tried to heal. See?" And he shows me the end of the branch. "It was dead beyond the cut. There was no way she could heal herself." He pauses. Taps the cut off piece against her trunk. "She wanted to heal. She really did. But sometimes, even nature can't overcome bad cuts."

Even nature can't overcome bad cuts.

Even people can't overcome bad breaks. Bad pasts. Bad cuts.

Sometimes, they need extra care. Extra TLC. An expert to come and cut away the deadwood. Cut off the broken branches, the deadened limbs and bore into the trunk to meld the two sides together again.

Sometimes, people need a little bit extra to help them heal.

and that's okay.

Like my apple tree. "She won't be as pretty to look at when I'm done," he says. "But she'll be healthy. She's got good roots and next year, she'll be even more beautiful than before. It's all in her roots and how we tend to her above ground."

I like that idea. It's not about how 'good' she looks. It's about her roots. About the stability of her core. The strength of her trunk. The reach of her limbs and how she's cared for.

It's about doing what's right now so that in the future she'll be even stronger.

There's a lesson here for all of us. If only I could learn it. See it. Know it without having to cut off my limbs to embrace it.

if only...

I were a tree and could cut off deadwood and be free.

if only...

Ahh, but it's not about if only. It's all about what I do to become my most healthy, grounded, rooted self.

My roots are strong. No matter what life brings, no matter the weather, the times, the hardships, my roots are strong and with strong roots, I can grow and prosper and flourish and leaf out into beauty, as long as I care for myself, no matter the weather, no matter the times, no matter the hardships. My roots are strong and I grow freer every day I take care of nourishing myself from the inside out and letting my natural capacity to heal strengthen me in every way.

7 comments:

Maureen said...

You expressed this so well.

Hugs.

Brandi said...

Wow!
This is so wierd.
I was thinking about this exact thing last night...well, more along the lines of the vine and the branches and pruning even the branches that bear fruit, so they will be more fruitful.
But your words really bring the analogy to life...thank you :)

Diane Walker said...

This is SUCH a beautiful post. Three cheers for your natural capacity for healing!

Anonymous said...

LG

I trust, as in the past, you will be OK with me posting your article (this one) on 360boom ..http://livingbetterlonger.net/goodrootsstrongtree.html the feature article for sept 3

cheers,

Mark

Louise Gallagher said...

Thanks Mark!

Kathleen Overby said...

It isn't in the future you will heal. You are. Now. It is obvious because you have fruit. :)

Anne Lang Bundy said...

I'm so glad Glynn featured this post. It would have passed through my RSS feed, but there's never quite enough reading time to see everything ...

The first reason I'm glad is because I'm getting ready to trim our trees as soon as the weather cools a bit more. I know you're supposed to do it in spring or autumn. Now, I'm determined to learn a little bit more first. I don't seem to have done harm in past years when trimming, but our apple tree needs to be cut way back. I'd feel awful if I hurt it.

The other reason I'm so glad to catch this is thinking of Jesus talking about His Father ... He said when a vine branch is fruitful it needs to be pruned. Pruning really hurts. But your words ... I'm reminded that He knows what He's doing. No bad cuts from Him. None.

Thank you, Louise.